


Das Licht

by Insignem



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insignem/pseuds/Insignem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kala visits Wolfgang in Berlin.</p><p>Sometimes, dark spaces just need a little light to shine on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Das Licht

The way her hands had danced, so quick and yet so sure and precise, was exquisite.

He was not used to such beauty in destruction. The bomb she was crafting with such grace was gorgeous, and she was gorgeous in creating it. To him, violence was raw and ugly and all the hateful things he had forced himself to live his life by. 

But her: she brought light, fragile and golden, and shone it into his dark spaces. What could he do, but to shrink away from that gentle sun?

He retreats from their private visits; sees her only when the group convenes as a whole. Her brilliance is on display, always, as she works out Will's drug schedule to keep him safely under. She tries to get his attention, but he leaves without meeting her eye.

She can see what's in his heart, anyway, and how could she want a monster?

She finds, him eventually. Of course she does. None of the eight can hide from each other, nor do they truly want to. 

He is walking along the street when she appears, suddenly, a quiet presence at his side. He doesn't look at her, doesn't say anything, but he changes his course and with a jerk of his head, indicates that she should follow. 

He takes her to the East Side Gallery, the longest remaining stretch of the Wall still standing in Berlin. Its murals stretch onwards, as far their eyes can reach, glowing in the afternoon sun.

“Die Mauer,” she says, her voice reverent, and he thrills to hear his language on her tongue. That cursed, beautiful word, that symbol of everything he loves and hates at once. 

“Ja. Hier ist mein Lieblingsplatz in der Stadt,” he says, and they stroll along the wall, though he knows she must hear the words in her own tongue. He watches her reactions to the murals as they pass, the twisted anguish and defiance and color they all possess. It's lovely to see her, to take note of the places where she lingers or stops to take in the scenes. At some, she smiles, or laughs lightly. At others, she takes in the pain depicted and he sees the sadness reflected in her own lovely face.

They have barely spoken, by the time they reach the end, but he feels closer to her than he has yet. He struggles for a moment, unsure how to say the words he wishes to. “It is lovely, yes? But also horrible. The wall is a symbol of all the ugliness in our history, of the terrible things that we are still rebuilding from. But these artists have taken this scar on our city and made it a thing of beauty and reflection. They painted it with words of love and resistance, and in place of the darkness it once stood for, it is now a light and living presence.” 

He hesitates, but turns to her, finally meeting her eyes. “I am a dark, ugly thing,” he says, but he laughs a little as he says it. She takes his hand in hers. “But I think you could make me into something light again.”

Her eyes are a little brighter than normal, as she tightens her grip on his hand and nods. He leans in, slowly, hoping that she won't pull away, but giving her the time to do so. She doesn't. Their lips meet, and he feels like sunlight is pouring through him, illuminating the blackness. 

When he opens his eyes, she's disappeared. He grins to himself, and starts mentally packing for a flight to India. 

“Remind me to take Hernando here, some day,” Lito's voice chuckles in his ear. “I think he would love it.”


End file.
